“And you touchedmy wife,” I reply just before I swing the axe and embed it into his shin, his screams echoing, making me smile, and I pull the axe out.
“Get comfortable, boys, because it looks like Trick isn’t anywhere near finished,” Cage chuckles, and piss drips from Tom’s chair.
Fucking pussy.
***
“Are you still going to be alright to go on the run in three weeks? Or do you need me to go?” Cage asks as I scrub my hands, and I look his way for a moment before looking down at the sink.
“Drew is heavily pregnant, brother, you can’t go, and we can’t cancel again. We did that a few months ago because of the Chargers. I’ll be fine, just keep a close eye on Clark, yeah? She won’t allow her father or brother near her yet,” I reply as I dry my hands, and Crash’s face pops around the corner.
“When will she speak to me again?” he asks, and I sigh.
“I don’t know, brother, maybe see if Belle can talk some sense into her?” I try, and he winces.
“I’m not really speaking to Belle right now after that shit she spewed,” he admits, and I raise a brow at him.
“She was scared for her friend,” I remind him, and he sighs, knowing I’m right.
“I’ll speak to her,” he grumbles, “but not because I’m still not pissed at her nasty words, but because I miss my fucking sister.”
I put my wedding ring back on just as my dad shows in the doorway and asks, “You got a minute?” and this time I sigh while Cage raises a brow, clearly wanting to know if I’ll talk to him. I give him a slight nod that I will talk to the fucker, and I look at my dad.
“You’ll have to walk and talk, I need to go get my wife so we can pick Willow up,” I state, he nods as I walk over to him, patting Crash’s back, who sulks by the door.
His standing beside me with the whole wedding thing broke whatever trust Clark held in him to the point she’s barely said one word to him in six years, her confirming she’s alright earlier, the first time she’s willingly spoken to him.
Hopefully, Belle can help…
“I messed up, son,” Dad says as we walk up the stairs towards the common room, and I shake my head.
“You can’t leave it twenty years to have a come to Jesus moment, Dad,” I say, “It took my wife to losing her cool for you to open your eyes and see how fucked up I am since that night.”
“It’s not just Clark’s distrust with the club keeping Willow from me, and your mom is it?” he confirms as we walk into the common room, chatter echoing around us.
“No, it isn’t,” I admit, and defeat crosses his face. I sigh, “I’m not trying to hurt you, Dad, I’m just telling you how it is. I used to look up to you, and then you allowed her back into our lives and acted like she never hurt me.”
“She is bipolar son,” he reminds me, but I shake my head.
“Bipolar disorder that I can’t seem to find in any of her medical records,” I retort, and he flinches as I snap, “You never looked into it, you’ve taken her word for it as undiagnosed and not that she is bat shit crazy. I don’t trust you, Dad, and I certainly don’t trust Mom. I’m sorry.”
I walk away from him, ignoring the hurt in his eyes, and I ignore my mom tracking me and walk towards the exit, needing to get home to my girls.
“Trick?” I hear Lavender call, but I ignore the bitch and keep walking.
Her time is nearly up, whether it is from a full vote to remove her or because I’ve killed her, well, that remains to be seen, but her days are fucking numbered.
***
“Buttercup?” I call gently as I walk inside, and my eyes find her instantly on the couch, and I smile to see she’s already changed out of her work uniform and into a simple shirt and jeans.
“You ready to go and get our girl?” I confirm as I swap my bike keys to the truck, and she stands.
“Shouldn’t you sleep?” she asks as she walks over to me, and my eyes go to her neck, the anger hits me yet again, the urge to go and chop that fucker’s body even more pulling me.
“No, buttercup, I want to spend the day with my girls,” I murmur meaning every word because sleep be damned. I gently cup her neck and rub my thumb under the cut.
“I’m okay, Miles, you taught me well,” she tries, and I half smile.
